


A Hand of Caravan

by Meowsapow



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25459741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowsapow/pseuds/Meowsapow
Summary: Ringo's back to the Mojave after a long Caravan expidition, just to find everything turned up on it's head. But a hand of Caravan with an old friend should set things right.
Relationships: Ringo/Courier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	A Hand of Caravan

Ringo was sitting out in the beating sun on break at the Crimson Caravan Company. It was a sweltering day, and not much work was to be done ever since the war was over. He had just returned from a very long route, effectively missing most of the chaos of Newly Independent Vegas. He was thankful for the peace, the serenity, finally some quie-

"Care for a game of Caravan?"

Looking much less dead and twice as imposing, Ringo didn't recognize them at first. If it wasn't for the Pipboy, he wouldn't have realized it was the same person from Goodsprings at all. His surprise was replaced by a large grin as he reached into his pocket.

"Sure, why not?"

They laid the cards on the table as they set up the game. Ringo stole a few glances at them as they shuffled, their brow furrowed in concentration as they meticulously aligned every card.

"So, you were there, weren't you? At the battle?"

The Courier nods as the game starts. "And where were you? I heard you took an expedition out of the Mojave from some of the other workers. Did you have fun?" 

Ringo snorted. "If walking miles through the desert is fun, then I'm Mr. New Vegas."

Ringo's turn. He placed a card down as a question floated to the surface of his mind. "Wait, were you going around askin about me to the other workers?"

The Courier nods, and places another card. "Mhm, I was wondering if you were around for a rematch at Caravan. I've gotten better you know."

Ringo places a card. "So have I," he smiles, winning the round and taking the pot. The Courier lays their cards face down on the table.

"Say, have you ever been to the Strip? Done some real gambling?" They ask, a glint in their eye. Ringo shakes his head.

"Mostly just at the Atomic Wrangler, except... they got this weird bot there now. It freaks me out."

"Oh, Fisto? Yeah, I sold him to them." They reply. Ringo's face must've shown his disgust, because the Courier starts laughing. Ringo banishes the thought of a robot doing... that from his mind. He instead scoops up his cards and puts them in his pocket. He stands from the bench, and the Courier gives him a questioning look.

"Aw, going so soon?" They pout. 

"Yep, and you're coming with me."

"Wh-where?" 

Ringo grabs the Courier by the hand. "Come on, I always wanted to see the Strip in person."

  
It was a bit of a hike, but with the NCR gone they weren't harassed by anybody. The locals around Freeside had calmed down since the securitrons took over, and with Yes Man in charge it was a piece of cake for the Courier to keep doing whatever the hell it is they do.

"Wow..." 

Ringo looks up at the main gate in awe, the lights still shining brightly in the late afternoon sun. His grip tightened on The Courier's hand as he dragged them towards the gate like a kid in a candy shop. The two of them entered the gate, and immediately Ringo wanted to go EVERYWHERE. For a grown man, there was something along the lines of a child like glee seeing everything for the first time. The Courier goodnaturedly allowed themselves to be dragged along, and Ringo caught them more than a few times gazing upon him with what, admiration? Fondness?

Whatever it was, it made Ringo's heart flutter. 

They spent late into the night on the Strip, glued at the hip. Playing the tables and buying anything they could fit into their stomachs. Eventually, it became a time where things were slowing down, and less and less people were present at the tables.

"Should we call it a night?" Ringo asks. The Courier squeezed their hand in return.

"Sure. I think vault 21 has rooms for rent!"

Good news: They did have vacancy! Bad news? The only room had only one queen sized bed. 

"Whelp, it is what it is!" The Courier shrugged, unbothered by the predicament. They flopped onto the bed. Ringo nervously sat down beside them on the other side, too jittery to fall asleep.

"So, what did you think of the Strip?" They asked Ringo. 

"Oh it... it was everything I thought it would be and more. I never expected there to be so few people though..."

The Courier shuffled around on the bed to get comfortable, and then patted the empty space beside them. "Well, that's just what happens when you push not one, but TWO occupying forces out of the Mojave. It feels a lot emptier. But don't worry, it will heal in time. It always does."

Ringo awkwardly lay down next to them, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to leap out of his throat. The Courier rolled over to fave him, and he felt himself go beat red.

"So was this like, a date?" He suddenly blurts. Their face freezes as he says this. Then they begin to laugh.

"Oh, oh Ringo. It. I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. But yes, I was. I thought it was at least." They wheeze. Ringo's face turns even redder as he grabs onto the Courier's hand and squeezes tightly to calm himself. They don't pull away.

"I'm... glad. I was hoping it was a date too." He replies slowly, inching closer to the Courier. Their body felt warm in this underground room, and they embraced him with warm and loving arms. He felt compressed and safe in their arms, and as he fell asleep he felt a gentle kiss planted on his forehead. He snuggled in deeper to thier chest, knowing that he finally had something to look forward to on the long trips ahead.


End file.
